


For an Heir

by moonlight08



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Friendship, M/M, Omegaverse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 23:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlight08/pseuds/moonlight08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft is the King of Omegaverse!England. Unfortunately, being a beta, he can't provide an heir to the throne, so the task is up to alpha Sherlock. </p><p>What could go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	For an Heir

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Sherlock. Or any of the characters.
> 
> Sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes. This was mostly written at 2-3 AM on a Saturday. And English is not my first language.
> 
> Comments and kudos are like chocolate chip cookies. I love chocolate chip cookies.
> 
> Enjoy!

Stupid. Stupid. _Stupid_.

How could that woman be so completely idiotic?

The whole matter was extremely tedious and annoying. It was hardly his fault that Mycroft was a beta and unlikely to ever have children. Why did he have to be the only alpha in the family? Why couldn't their parents have had more children? It was too late for that now. It was up to Mycroft and Sherlock to ensure the future of the monarchy. But Mycroft had proved to be as useless as ever, leaving only Sherlock to uphold the family name.

Yes, it was certainly tedious and annoying, to say the least.

The prince had avoided bonding for just over twenty nine years by completely alienating every single omega that had been presented to him. Even the most insistent of them, the ones that had desperately wanted to be part of the royal family. Not one of their tiny, boring brains could compete with the viciousness that Sherlock could display. Their attempts had been laughable at best.

The problem was that every year that passed, the entire nobility seemed to get a bit more restless. Sherlock had to produce an heir, or risk Lord Anderson’s offspring claiming the throne. Not even Sherlock wanted that.

That’s how he had ended up in that mess. The prince had finally agreed to meet a list of noble omegas that could bond with him.

Why had he agreed to that?

“Boring.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are boring. Dreadfully boring. I believe I don’t want to continue this useless meeting. You should feel free to leave now.” Oh, great. Was she going to cry?

Yes. Yes, she was. And rush out of the room while doing so, it would appear.

Sherlock sighed. His brother wouldn’t take the matter lightly, but he could surely be reasoned with. All the candidates had been horrible. He couldn’t be expected to bond with them. To spend the rest of his life with those mindless creatures. He’d find a mate. Eventually. He still had many years left.

Yes, he would reason with Mycroft and avoid the issue for a couple of years more.

*

Mycroft could not be reasoned with.

“Really, Mycroft. You should see how insipid they are. It’s simply—“

“I don’t care, Sherlock!” He shouted, his calm demeanour broken for an instant. He managed to compose himself quickly. “You don’t seem to understand the importance of your actions. We need a successor.”

“I know that, Mycroft. But you forget that an alpha male can father children for nearly the entirety of his life.” There was no real reason to hurry.

“Yes, that is correct. Nevertheless, I believe we both know that your preferred lifestyle is not conductive to a long and healthy life, dear brother.” Sherlock was about to protest, but Mycroft lifted a hand, urging him to keep quiet. Miraculously, he obeyed. “I have made a decision. Since you cannot be trusted to handle this, I’m going to take matters into my own hands.” He paused, looking directly at the prince. “You will bond as soon as I find a partner I deem suitable.”

Sherlock’s face lost all traces of colour.

“No. You can’t do this, Mycroft. It’s not your choice to make.”

“I am the King, and I will be obeyed. I’m sorry, Sherlock, but you leave me no choice. Guards, take my brother to his chambers. He is not to leave until I say otherwise.”

*

“So, what’s your name?”

“Mmh… Anthea.”

“Is that your real name?” She just smiled, not taking his eyes off her Blackberry, and somehow conveying pity and exasperation at the same time.

Yeah, John had guessed as much.

The car eventually came to a stop.

That was the first time John ever met the King.

*

“So, His Royal Highness needs a bodyguard?  I thought he had an entire security detail.” When had a royal not been surrounded by an entire fleet of armed men? John had certainly noticed the six men waiting in the shadows, checking their surroundings for any possible threat.

“Yes, he does. However, I am afraid my brother gets himself into too much trouble. I need a man with certain… skills to follow him around and keep him safe. Well, as safe as Sherlock can be. Your file has recently come to my attention.” John’s eyes narrowed as he produced a file from thin air. “Let’s see. Dr. John Hamish Watson. First born of Katherine Elizabeth and Thomas John Watson. Only one sibling, Harriet Elizabeth Watson, alcoholic. Studied medicine in Saint Bartholomew’s, top of the class. Captain of the RAMC. Honourably discharged three months ago. Shot in the left shoulder, I see. Ella Thompson, your therapist, thinks your limp and the tremor in your left hand are entirely psychosomatic. She’s right, I’m afraid.” He looked up, right into John’s eyes, like he could pierce through his every thought. “There is one thing she got wrong, though. Those are not symptoms of PTSD, doctor. Quite the opposite. You _miss_ the war.”

The army man just glared, his hands completely steady.

“I can assure you, captain, that working with Sherlock will prove to be a battlefield in itself.”

And suddenly John wanted this job. He wanted it badly. That probably said something horrible about him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

*

There was a knock on the door.

“Piss off, Mycroft! I’m not willing to torture myself by enduring your presence.”

He heard a weary sigh.

“Be civil, Sherlock. I believe you could be interested in what I have to say.”

A few seconds passed before Sherlock spoke.

“You’re letting me out.” He walked to the door. He stopped himself just as he was about to open it. “You’ve found someone, haven’t you?”

“Yes, brother dear. I have. And I am happy to announce you will be bonded very soon. Now, if you could kindly open the door. I’d like to discuss the particulars over tea, like civilized people.” Mycroft decided to ignore the pointed curses he heard before the door opened. He had long ago learned to pick his battles with Sherlock. A few choice swearwords were hardly important.

They remained in tense silence until the tea had been served.

“So, I believe you don’t know Irene Adler.”

*

“I don’t need a babysitter, Mycroft.”

John couldn’t believe the man was throwing a temper tantrum.

“I beg to differ. You can’t be trusted on your own while we wait for Lady Adler’s return.” As far as John could see, His Majesty was right. Sherlock had behaved like a three year old ever since they had arrived. “Dr. Watson will accompany you wherever you go until then. He will settle in that dingy thing you call flat in Baker Street with you, and ensure you don’t get into trouble. And you won’t purposely try to make him lose track of you, like you somehow manage with the entire security detail you’ve been assigned. In return, I will consent your usual… activities to continue. For now.”

Mycroft gave him a pointed glare. Sherlock sighed, obviously very annoyed. “Fine.”

“Excellent. Enjoy these weeks, brother. I doubt you’ll be able to do so again until you have produced an heir and a spare.”

“Piss off.”

*

“So… you normally live here? I’d have thought you’d live in one of the palaces.”

“Why should I? I have everything I need here. And I can always go back if I’m needed.”

“Okay, then. I guess we now have to discuss outings.”

“What is there to discuss?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re sort of famous. How do you normally handle public displays?”

“You needn’t worry. I’ve spent years mastering the art of becoming invisible, metaphorically speaking. People only see what I want them to see.”

“You’re going to be a terror to work with, aren’t you?”

“Probably.”

*

“Why are we in a crime scene?”

“I’m a consulting detective on my free time.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“That between royal duties, I help the police do their job.”

“Interesting hobby for a prince.”

“It’s not a hobby.”

“Sure.”

*

John wasn’t boring. John called him brilliant and amazing, without a hint of mockery or sarcasm. John didn’t have a psychosomatic limp anymore. Sherlock had seen to that. They had laughed at a crime scene, just after John had shot someone to save him. John was a killer. John was a healer.

John was interesting.

For the first time in his life, Sherlock had found a friend.

*

Sherlock wasn’t eavesdropping. It was hardly his fault that Mycroft had a strident voice that pierced through the walls. And that Sherlock had decided to stand just outside the room where John had gone into.

“Lady Adler will arrive in a couple of days, so our original agreement is almost at an end. However, I would like to offer you a permanent position as Sherlock’s bodyguard.”

“I’m flattered by the offer, but I’m afraid I must decline.”

Sherlock’s heart stopped. Why didn’t John want to stay with him?

“Very well. I am quite sorry to hear that. I don’t believe I could change your mind with a reasonable raise?”

A pause.

“No, you can’t.”

Money. Of course it was money. What other reason could the doctor have to stay with him? Sherlock had been so stupid, he had let himself forget that John had been hired. He only fit in with Sherlock because he was paid to be. And John had gotten so tired of following him around, money wasn’t enough anymore.

Stupid.

He had to leave. He couldn’t bear to hear anything else.

*

The bomber was interesting.

Sherlock was completely and utterly enthralled. John hated it. But it wasn’t until that woman died after trying to describe her kidnapper that he realized how bothered he was by his behaviour.

“Will caring help me solve the case?”

“No.” He admitted, reluctantly.

“Then I will continue to avoid that mistake.”

 _Mistake_. Of course he thought feelings were a mistake.

They fought a while longer, until John couldn’t stand it and left.

*

John was strapped to a bomb and it was all Sherlock’s fault. Moriarty had taken him and threatened his life. That wouldn’t do.

“Just imagine the scandal, darling. His Royal Highness, consulting criminal.” Jim’s eyes had acquired a demented sort of quality.

“What if I refuse?”

“Then I blow your little pet up.” John grimaced as Moriarty touched his cheek. “Which would be a shame. He is a rather entertaining for an omega.”

Sherlock froze.

“Oh, sweetheart, didn’t you know? I have to say, I’m somewhat disappointed.” He slowly shook his head. “Your little pet might be living as a beta, but he most certainly isn’t one. Am I right, Johnny boy?”

“Piss off.” He answered, nostrils flaring.

“Feisty! Oh, I like him. Perhaps I should get a pet of my own.” He took a couple of steps towards Sherlock. “What do you think?”

That’s when John pounced. He grabbed on to Moriarty and shouted at the genius, telling him to run. The snipers wouldn’t be able to get to him in time if he started running right then.

He didn’t run. He couldn’t run. Not when the consequences would be so unbearable. 

“I’m afraid you’ve rather shown your hand, doctor.” The captain backed off slowly when he saw the laser pointing at Sherlock. “Well, this has all been so much fun. But now you have a choice to make. Tic- toc, dear. Clock is ticking.”

 _Stayin’ Alive_ starts ringing in that moment, startling the detective and his bodyguard. Jim took the call, and he became angrier by the second. He obviously didn't like what he was hearing. Blue and grey eyes exchanged a worried look.

“I’m terribly sorry, this little meeting is going to have to be postponed. Don’t worry, though. We’ll see each other again, very soon.” He smiled while he reached into his pocket. “Do think about my offer, Sherlock. And know that your little pet won’t be safe unless you agree.” He pulled out a syringe full of a clear liquid. “Well, I must go. But you can’t be allowed to follow. So I will use this –don’t worry, it’s not lethal— to ensure that you don’t. Now, be a dear and don’t move.” John barely flinched as the needle pierced his skin. “Good boy! I’ll be seeing you two again.”

Sherlock rushed over to where John was standing as soon as Moriarty was out the door, practically ripping the vest from the doctor’s body.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, sounding very concerned. His eyes went back and forth, checking for injuries.

“I’m fine, Sherlock. But we have to get out of here. We have to get to Baker Street before it gets worse.”

That alarmed the detective.

“Before what gets worse? What did he do? What did he give you?” His thoughts were starting to get jumbled. What on Earth was going on? He frantically searched for any trace of an injury, until something stopped him dead on his tracks. He leaned into John, who all of a sudden smelt almost edible.

“Sh–Sherlock?” He stuttered when the dark haired man started nuzzling his neck. “No, no. You don’t get to go all alpha on me now. We need to get out of here. Come on, you wanker. Let go.” He didn’t let go. He actually grabbed John to bring him closer. “Sherlock, I’m going into heat for the first time in twenty four years. It’s not going to be pretty. I suggest –shit, it’s coming faster than I thought— please, Sherlock. I can’t be held responsible of what I do if you don’t let go in the next few seconds.”

Even as he was saying it, John realized it was too late. There was no way he was getting anywhere in time. Whatever Moriarty had injected was acting faster than anything he had encountered in his entire medical career. He could already feel his body preparing itself for the first wave of the heat. And the other man seemed to be lost already.

So much for protecting Sherlock.

*

“John?”

Oh, good. Sherlock seemed to be conscious again, if somewhat disoriented.

“Don’t try to move yet.” He warned when he felt the prince squirm behind him. “We’re knotted. You won’t be going anywhere for a couple more minutes.” Sherlock froze.

“John?” God, he sounded horrified. “Did… did I…?”

“No, no. I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t bite me, either. Don’t worry.” He sincerely hoped he didn’t sound disappointed. Sherlock didn’t need to know about his feelings. “We’re not bonded.” _Even if I’m probably pregnant_ , he didn’t add.

He heard only silence.

“You didn’t want this to happen. It’s not your fault.” He tried to reassure the other man.

“Not like this, no.” Wait, _what_? “I know you wanted to leave. You rejected Mycroft’s offer, after all. You obviously didn’t want to stay with me.” He was trying to sound indifferent, but a slight tremor in his voice betrayed him. “You’re here only because Moriarty realized I had developed _feelings_ for you.” It was John’s turn to freeze. “So no, I didn’t want this to happen. But it certainly is my fault. I should have _seen._ I should have seen you were an omega. I should have protected you from him.”

“You have feelings for me?” His heart had stopped beating and then resumed at a frantic pace.

Sherlock snarled. “You know I hate repeating myself.” Pause. He seemed to remember something else. “You needn’t let your ridiculous sense on chivalry let you feel obligated to stay. Not for me.”

The doctor couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes, I wanted to leave.” Sherlock’s breath hitched behind him. He obviously wasn’t expecting something so direct.  “Only because you are going to bond with somebody else. Sherlock, I… I have developed feelings for you too, okay? That is why I can’t stay.” His voice broke with the last word. God, he was pathetic. And the detective had gone silent again. That was truly worrying. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ll find a beta cab as soon as we’re not… joined anymore, before the second wave starts. And I’ll go someplace safe to stay for the remainder of my heat. You’ll never have to see me again.” He knew he was going to have to sign a few contracts and flee the country if he planned to keep the child that was surely growing inside him. The King couldn’t let a bastard have claim to the throne. And there was no chance John would terminate the pregnancy. Not when the mad genius was his father. He didn’t say that aloud.

The answer he received was unexpected.

“Bond with me.”

“What?!” He spluttered. “Sherlock, you don’t have to do this. I’ll be fine. It's really not your fault. Besides, you have been promised to Irene Adler. And I’m not part of a noble family. Your brother would never approve.” He couldn’t let himself hope. Not when everything was against them.

“I want to do it. I don’t care about them. I only care about you.” John's heart skipped a beat as Sherlock’s voice acquired a gentle undertone. “John, you are probably carrying my child.” _So not the time to feel smug, Sherlock_. “The reason I was being forced to bond was because the monarchy needed an heir. You are both an omega and my only friend. You fit perfectly in my life. I can’t think of a better solution. It’s the only way. Surely you see that.”

John sighed. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”

Who was he trying to fool? He couldn’t say no to his madman.

“Please.”

Damn him. He was defenseless against a pleading Sherlock. 

“Fine. We get a beta cab to Baker Street first, though.” He said as the knot started to deflate.

*

Their first kiss was surprisingly soft.

*

It was during one of the reprieves between waves that Sherlock asked.

“Why did you decide to live as a beta?”

John knew the answer to that.

“Ah, well. At first I wanted to be a doctor. Get through college and all that. I didn’t even consider starting a family back then. Suppressants seemed to make sense.” He shrugged. “One thing led to another, and suddenly I was in the army. Suppressants are mandatory during service, as you know.” He hesitated, reluctant to share what came next. “After I was shot… I… I started thinking that it was too late. That I had missed my chance. That nobody would want a broken war veteran. Not exactly the submissive, delicate omega everyone wants. I guess I was scared to find out if I was right. Being a beta was safe.”

Sherlock’s arms tightened around him.

“You are not broken. You are mine.”

“That I am.”

*

“What will happen with the Bonding Ceremony your brother had planned for you and Lady Adler?”

“I don’t care. However, we will probably have to have one of our own. A very public one, to appease His Royal Fatness.”

“We’re lucky your brother wanted to wait for her return before making the announcement. If there had been a statement, we would be in trouble.”

“There is no such thing as luck.”

“Agree to disagree, then.”

*

“What do you want, Mycroft?”

“Oh, good. You are awake. I wasn’t certain.”

“If you’re only going to state the obvious, you can piss off.”

“Don’t be crass, brother. You know perfectly well why I’m calling.”

“...”

“He’s not suitable, Sherlock.”

“You’re not taking him away from me.”

“You wouldn’t want anything to happen to him, would you?”

“Let me make something clear, _brother_. If you so much as touch a single hair of my bondmate’s head, I will abdicate. I will leave the country and I will spend every moment of every day making you regret your decision.”

“Very well. No need for dramatics. You should prepare him for what’s to come, then. I expect  he will need to adjust. He is going to be your consort, after all.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, and Sherlock?”

“What?”

“Congratulations.”

*

“Anthea, dear. Everything has gone according to plan. Please convey our most sincere apologies to the Adler family.”

“Right away, sir.”

*

“You have to find Moriarty, Mycroft. He threatened John. I want him dead.”

“Then I expect you to attend the Spanish Prince’s birthday party. And your own birthday party, for once.”

“If I must.”

*

“Your Majesty?”

“Bring me a glass of champagne. I fell like celebrating. Nothing like success to lift one’s spirits.”

*

“I do.”

“I do.”

*

_The Royal Family is proud to announce the birth of HRH Prince Gregory and HRH Princess Hope._

*

“They’re barely six months old, Sherlock. I doubt they’re hitting your chest as some sort of code.”

“Nonsense. Of course they are. Why else would they both do that at the same time?”

“Whatever. Yeah. I’m sure that’s why.”

*

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
